Hey guys can you NOT post your disgusting fucking father x child fanfiction about Leon here? LIKE ACTUALLY YOU ARE FUCKING SICK. You're actually fucking vile. I'm not even gonna call it a fetish because you're just fucking sick for this shit. You FANTASIZE about being in a relationship with Leon but he's YOUR DAD? Holy fuck. Holy fuck. GET HELP- there's no fucking defending yourself to from this like "it's just fiction," bitch that doesn't change the fact you want to imagine getting fucked by Leon but specially with him as your FATHER. You want to be fucked by your dad.

There's a general problem with Leon fanfiction here and it's always sexual and just keeps getting darker and slowly more illegal. You can't go five seconds without smut being thrown in your face. And now, you're writing incest for him? Bye 💀

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗯 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆. And it is excruciating. On his chest, one can trace its ugly mark, the brand less discoloration and more, unfortunately, a deep-grooved scar. It is unavoidable and impossible to ever miss. Similarly, the way it eats at him is obvious, too. Gale, especially at the start, when his condition, fresh and disorienting, was still abundantly new, the effects of the orb were frighteningly worse. At that time, he little knew how to quell it, that feeding off the Weave would balm the pain, and so for all those days and weeks of panic, he rotted and ached at a terrible pace. He had decayed. And he had bled. Gale's body oozed black, skin, especially at his casting arm, rupturing like cracks in terracotta. He tasted filth always, the bitterness of wasting flesh thick in his throat, nose perpetually leaking with the ink-dark of bleeding. He'd labored to breathe, a feeling like devouring maggots pulsing in his chest. In fact, at the lowest point by then, wallowing and stuck in his tower, Gale began to lose hair, his nails loose and cracking as he scrabbled at the floorboards, knees weak and pain bolting when he collapsed to the floor. He was a pitiful sight. And a worrying one. And even now, with the consumption of magical artefacts, one can still see the way he bows to the blight, heaving for breath when it takes his chest again, sweat at his temples and mouth gone dry. It's all-encompassing. The agony is chronic. It feels like being eaten, being hollowed to his barest self right from the inside. He's a vessel of magic, and the orb means to consume him down to his every last molecule, teeth bared, hackles raised, and appetite crushing. It's like--dying, stolen away to be but swallowed down whole, surrendering to the suck of a hungering vortex. He's unsightly. As well, too, as a burden, he thinks, to the very naked of his bones. But when someone hangs back, touches him despite his rot, he thinks, you shouldn't have to handle something like this. This mere shamble of a graveyard--he's so sorry to dirty their hands.

i am so good at not keeping my opinions to myself 💪💪💪💪 "*rsa defender for life" you would defend a rock on the ground if it so much as rolled in the direction of your favourite male character

anyway the goblin antagonist of hogwarts legacy is, yes, the ultimate antagonist, works with dark wizards to harvest (or steal previously harvested? unclear in the summary i read) magical energy from wizards including children — there's, allegedly, a scene where they explicitly discuss abducting a child. the antagonism is first framed as the goblin wanting to reclaim goblin-made artifacts and magic but is later revealed as an enterprise of personal greed for the goblin, who steals all the power for himself at the end of the game and turns into a dragon (you know, a giant lizard). this is the big plot of the game, is the goblin and his associated evil characters stealing an essence from children for their personal evil magical use, and then at the end of the game, the goblin turns into a big lizard. hogwarts legacy really is antisemitic tropes: the video game.

@ the old bitch who fucking rapidly reversed her car into our passenger door, wedging my foot between the cracked open door and the frame of our car, nearly crushing my fucking ankle and foot and showed zero remorse: I hope you never know a single moment of peace and go straight to hell like you deserve, you wretched cunt <3 may you be left to rot in an old age home alone and suffering like you deserve <3

pokemon fans that complain about aspects of the games that can literally be explained by "they are games meant to be consumed by people of all ages, primarily children" are soooo funny to me. like you can just admit it doesn't cater to your taste anymore. it's okay.

especially when spe is right there like. the manga is actually quite dark and clearly meant for an older target audience. i would Not let children read that shit personally.

through all the practice sawashiro fights ive done this morning ive decided he has a really weird grudge against eri for whatever reason

queer armys could literally just be like “as a queer person many of the themes and symbols bts use prominently in their art feel very familiar, personal and comforting” and would still get jumped by cishets/bootlicking lgbt armys calling them freaks. Oh wait  that literally does happen

as someone who spent three years working a retail job if i ever hear someone complain about retail workers not smiling while working they are getting a punch to the throat

god my analysis brain is going into overdrive over get out 2017 what the hell. theres so much to talk about

L is fucking heinous and DESERVED TO DIE SOONER!

tumblr "stop recommending radfems/terfs/trans exclusionist blogs to me when i have literally as many of their tags blocked as i possibly can" challenge :))

"The idea of reforming Omelas is a pleasant idea, to be sure, but it is one that Le Guin herself specifically tells us is not an option. No reform of Omelas is possible — at least, not without destroying Omelas itself:

If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms.

'Those are the terms', indeed. Le Guin’s original story is careful to cast the underlying evil of Omelas as un-addressable — not, as some have suggested, to 'cheat' or create a false dilemma, but as an intentionally insurmountable challenge to the reader. The premise of Omelas feels unfair because it is meant to be unfair. Instead of racing to find a clever solution ('Free the child! Replace it with a robot! Have everyone suffer a little bit instead of one person all at once!'), the reader is forced to consider how they might cope with moral injustice that is so foundational to their very way of life that it cannot be undone. Confronted with the choice to give up your entire way of life or allow someone else to suffer, what do you do? Do you stay and enjoy the fruits of their pain? Or do you reject this devil’s compromise at your own expense, even knowing that it may not even help? And through implication, we are then forced to consider whether we are — at this very moment! — already in exactly this situation. At what cost does our happiness come? And, even more significantly, at whose expense? And what, in fact, can be done? Can anything?

This is the essential and agonizing question that Le Guin poses, and we avoid it at our peril. It’s easy, but thoroughly besides the point, to say — as the narrator of 'The Ones Who Don’t Walk Away' does — that you would simply keep the nice things about Omelas, and work to address the bad. You might as well say that you would solve the trolley problem by putting rockets on the trolley and having it jump over the people tied to the tracks. Le Guin’s challenge is one that can only be resolved by introspection, because the challenge is one levied against the discomforting awareness of our own complicity; to 'reject the premise' is to reject this (all too real) discomfort in favor of empty wish fulfillment. A happy fairytale about the nobility of our imagined efforts against a hypothetical evil profits no one but ourselves (and I would argue that in the long run it robs us as well).

But in addition to being morally evasive, treating Omelas as a puzzle to be solved (or as a piece of straightforward didactic moralism) also flattens the depth of the original story. We are not really meant to understand Le Guin’s 'walking away' as a literal abandonment of a problem, nor as a self-satisfied 'Sounds bad, but I’m outta here', the way Vivier’s response piece or others of its ilk do; rather, it is framed as a rejection of complacency. This is why those who leave are shown not as triumphant heroes, but as harried and desperate fools; hopeless, troubled souls setting forth on a journey that may well be doomed from the start — because isn’t that the fate of most people who set out to fight the injustices they see, and that they cannot help but see once they have been made aware of it? The story is a metaphor, not a math problem, and 'walking away' might just as easily encompass any form of sincere and fully committed struggle against injustice: a lonely, often thankless journey, yet one which is no less essential for its difficulty."

- Kurt Schiller, from "Omelas, Je T'aime." Blood Knife, 8 July 2022.